


Tony's Toy

by JishytheFishy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Dildos, Fucking Machines, Gay Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Multi, Peter is 17, Porn With Plot, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Vibrators, Voyeur Tony Stark, Voyeurism, so he's legal, tony starks lends out peter to the avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 14:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18033362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JishytheFishy/pseuds/JishytheFishy
Summary: After Peter's 17th, when Peter is finally the legal age of consent in New York, Tony and Peter decide not to hide their relationship from the team anymore. And then Peter mentions a fantasy about being used by the rest of the Avengers, and Tony just can't say no to him.





	Tony's Toy

**Author's Note:**

> So, after the prologue, each chapter is basically just going to be each Avenger taking their turn on Peter. I can't promise how good the writing is going to be, but I'm hoping this fun, little project will cure my writer's block. Also, tags will be updated as I go along.

Things had changed for the whole team after Tony had discovered the truth of his parents’ fatal “car crash”. Things had changed for Tony and Steve, especially. Whenever he thought about the blond super soldier, his chest got tight; he felt constricted, just as he had with the decision he’d had to make. He knew if he turned against Bucky, that would mean Steve would turn his back on Tony. Tony had hoped, prayed, wished it wouldn’t have to happen like that, but his worst fears became true when suddenly his life was threatened by his best friend, by his boyfriend.

 

The dark thoughts that plagued Tony’s mind at night - the ones that made him toss and turn - had come to fruition.

 

Tony understood, he got the fact that Bucky was Steve’s first love, and they really hadn’t ever broken up. But Tony was Steve’s, Steve was Tony’s, however, all of that had changed by the time Bucky came back. And still, once Steve knew that Bucky was alive, even if Bucky wasn’t himself, all of Steve’s attention went to his long lost best friend. Tony had tried to be patient, supportive, but he could see that Steve was beginning to pull away from him.

 

Then, finally, he’d lost the only man he’d felt so much - felt anything - for.

 

His entire life felt as though it had been ripped to shreds; he wasn’t happy anymore; he couldn’t be, not when he’d had to recruit a child just to fight his sort-of-almost-ex-boyfriend. They’d never had a real talk about it, they just sort of… drifted.

 

Then they’d found out that Bucky was responsible for the death of Tony’s parents - well, he had found out - Steve already knew; he’d kept it from Tony. Their last fight was when he knew it was completely over; Steve had turned his back on Tony for some guy that he hadn’t seen in years. Who he’d previously thought was dead.

 

Tony hated him for it - but he didn’t, really, not at all. But he wished he could. He wished he didn’t have to lay awake at night, tossing and turning because he couldn’t fall asleep without Steve, because he wasn’t used to sleeping in his bed alone, without the super soldier’s arms wrapped around him. He hurt - physically, emotionally - and the stupid flip phone hadn’t made it any better. Tony, against his desperate wishes and attempts to stay strong, would lay awake in bed at night, on his side, clutching the phone and note to his chest and sobbing, knowing that Steve wasn’t doing the same thing. That he was warm and comfortable in his new - or old, whatever - lover’s arms, probably sleeping soundly and not missing Tony at all. Because he didn’t need him, nobody did.

 

“Mr. Stark?” There was a squeak at his door; the threshold opened, bringing a blinding light into Tony’s dark room. The only thing saving him from the eye strain was the figure of the kid - Peter - standing in Death Star- patterned pyjama pants, and a matching t-shirt. “I heard -” He stopped, and Tony found it even worse that the kid didn’t want to embarrass him. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony croaked once he found his voice, peering at Peter from over his shoulder, laying on his side. These days, he was trying to sleep without the phone. It didn’t smell like Steve anymore, but the only time he really slept was when his body just couldn’t handle it anymore and gave up on him for a few hours. Some days he’d wake up with a drool spot on his desk, or pass out in random places around the compound. He’d forgotten that the kid had been staying over while his aunt was away for a few days, working at some sort of random job she’d been offered. Peter had originally been helping Tony with new suits for both of them, but their task had shifted to creating codes for FRIDAY and his bots to make sure that Tony was safe when he would collapse from lack of sleep. That was embarrassing, too, but it was a learning experience for Peter, and he’d wanted to help. Just like Steve. Another sob bubbled up in Tony’s chest, but he kept it from slipping past his lips, even as he spoke with an unsure, shaky voice. “Yeah, kid. I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

 

Peter seemed to consider it for a moment, and Tony watched him shift his weight from side to side, but otherwise not moving. Not leaving. “Kid?”

 

They nearly overlapped, he thought maybe Peter had been preparing to speak. “What’s wrong, Mr. Stark?” He asked with a desperation that sounded as if he’d been keeping it in for months. “Why can’t you sleep?”

 

Tony couldn’t answer - he didn’t want to tell him the truth, though he knew Peter had probably pieced it together already. And maybe Peter’s realization was what prompted him to move forward, closing the door and navigating in the darkness to Tony’s bed. The man felt a weight settle behind him, and turned onto his back, speaking to the ceiling and Peter all at once. Their shoulders brushed, and Tony could only focus on how warm the kid was. “What are you doing?”

 

“I-It’s okay, Mr. Stark.” He sounded nervous, like he was ready for Tony to shove him away at any moment. “I can just… lay here. I’ll help you sleep.” And then he was moving, wrapping an arm around Tony’s middle and laying his head on Tony’s chest.

 

He didn’t know how to feel about the kid cuddling up to him like that. He wanted to push him away, tell him to go back to his own room - or, rather, the guest room he’d dominated - and to not bother Tony again.

 

But the warmth radiating off of him was nice. And Tony hated every part of laying with a teenager; with the kid he was supposed to be babysitting and mentoring, but Tony also found that he suddenly hated Peter’s size. He was smaller than Steve, so even when Tony stared at the ceiling and tried to pretend that Steve was still there with him, he couldn’t. Peter was muscular, but his shoulders weren’t as broad, biceps not as large. His body wasn’t very similar to the super soldier’s, but once Tony closed his eyes, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.

 

He was out within seconds, and Peter had cured him.

 

For the next two weeks, Peter continuously invaded Tony’s bedroom, and Tony had finally stopped protesting. He didn’t know how Peter had convinced his aunt to keep letting him stay over, but obviously something had worked - Peter was laying with Tony at night, leaving for school in the morning, then coming back to work in the lab and repeating the cycle.

 

He’d reached for Tony’s cock on only one occasion, sliding his hand down Tony’s stomach and whispering the gentlest, “Mr. Stark…” And at only two weeks into their unspoken arrangement, Tony had stopped him. He’d grabbed Peter’s wrist, gave him a firm ‘no’, and Peter didn’t try again.

 

The denial did not stop Peter’s subconscious from wandering, however, and there were times when they woke up in the morning with a wet spot between them, where Peter’s come had soaked through his pyjama pants. Peter would always apologize profusely and jump out of bed, ignoring Tony’s attempts to tell him that it was normal. He would try to talk to Peter about it at breakfast, too, and Peter would awkwardly sink into his chair, becoming a hunched ball of embarrassment until Tony would finally take pity on him and let him leave.

 

But sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night to Peter humping his leg while still asleep, whimpering and alternating between Tony’s first and last names as he moaned. And, yeah, Tony was flattered - but it wasn’t as if he was surprised. He was sure that Peter wasn’t the first person to have dreams about him.

 

Except, Tony got hard sometimes, when his dick would cooperate in the middle of the night. He never touched it, and he never woke Peter, or moved at all; he just let it happen. Maybe it was shitty - no, he knew it was shitty - but he couldn’t bring himself to address it. He was selfish; he’d been doing some of his best work with Peter around, and he was still sleeping well - he didn’t want to lose the kid.

 

Nearly a whole year later, August finally came around.

 

In that time, Tony had barely spent a night without him. He didn't stay over all of the time, of course - May would never allow that. But he did stay over often, which earned Tony glares and weird looks from May whenever he dropped Peter off, and then, eventually, a conversation that seemed way too subtly-accusatory; she had mentioned Peter's age and innocence a few times, as well as the fact that he'd looked up to Tony ever since he was young, and Tony should not (thought it came out more like 'will not, if I have anything to say about it') take advantage of that.

 

Tony didn't dismiss her; she had a point, and he didn't intend on hurting her nephew in any way. He was attracted to Peter, but the kid's age was his fatal flaw - and Tony's reckless, selfishness was his own. The thing keeping him from actually giving into their mutual desires wasn't really the jail time - he was Tony Stark, he could get out of that - but his public image would suffer, and he'd lose all of the friends he had left.

 

He felt safe around Peter, loved, wanted. Peter never treated him like a burden, and even though he took care of Tony, he didn't baby the older man. Not like Rhodey or Pepper, when they treated him as if he was a child that needed to be constantly supervised. (In all fairness, he knew that they had reason to act that way around him - Peter hadn't been around for most of the things that the other two had to watch Tony go through. They tried to care for him in the only way they thought would work.)

 

The best part about the whole almost-year, though, was that Peter hadn't only cured Tony of his insomnia, but of his broken heart, too. Sometimes Tony still thought of Steve, of course, but it wasn't all of the time, and it wasn't an empty-chested, burning pain any longer. He'd gotten used to Peter's small, lean frame against him, clinging to Tony every night. Neither wanted to wake up without the other anymore.

 

Some mornings, Peter would wait for Tony to get up, and on others it was the opposite. They took turns making breakfast for each other - well, Tony cooked and Peter mostly burned - but he enjoyed the kid's company, so he'd suffer through the food.

 

But with August came Peter's 16th birthday.

 

Tony was selfish; he wanted Peter all to himself for that night - as if he didn't keep him away from his aunt most nights. He knew it was a long shot, though. May would either want to keep him all day, or would only let him out during the day while she was preparing for whatever she was planning for him. Tony wanted to organize a party for Peter; he wanted to give Peter the best night he could - one that would end in them cuddled against each other again.

 

He texted Peter at 6am, when he thought it would be a sensible time to make it appear as though he'd slept, but also that he hadn't slept well without Peter in his bed. Tony hadn't gone to bed at all, but he didn't need Peter knowing that; worrying about it on his birthday, like he knew the boy would.

 

To: Peter

_ Happy birthday. See you later. _

 

Probably not, but a man could dream.

 

Peter's reply came four and a half hours later, while he was rubbing his eyes and scrolling through his notifications, stomach jumping like it always did when he saw he'd gotten a text from Tony. He had read it over at least four times, eventually deciding that there was no way he wouldn't get to see Tony today. He needed to.

 

To: Mr. Stark ♥

_ Thanks!! I'll text you when I'm coming _

 

He thought for a moment, and then scrambled to reply before Tony could.

 

To: Mr. Stark ♥

_ over _

 

To: Mr. Stark ♥

_ when I'm coming over _

 

He decided that he really, really hated himself as he buried his face in his pillow and groaned in agony. It wasn't his fault, though. He got blue balls almost every morning he woke up next to Tony - that, or blue balls in his heart (which was somehow worse).

 

Tony had been amused by the flurry of scrambled texts. He could picture Peter laying on his bed, blushing that adorable pink and debating the importance of his existence. And then Tony's mind wandered, thinking about Peter shirtless instead, on his back and staring up at Tony with those big, gorgeous brown eyes. Peter with his legs spread, his pale thighs open and begging for Tony's hands, his mouth, his cock. And that tight, virgin hole, only ever touched by Peter's thin fingers. If Peter would wait, be patient (which Tony didn't expect  - only hoped), he'd eventually have Tony's thick fingers prodding at and stretching his hole or the man's even thicker cock.

 

Tony grabbed his dick through his pants, leaning onto the island in kitchen of the Avengers tower. This kid was going to kill him.

 

He retreated to his room to jerk off, thinking about the mental images he had saved of Peter laying on Tony's side, drooling and fucking Tony's thigh like his life depended on it. Tony was ready to collapse on his bed when he got there, but before he could, he spotted a pair of red boxer briefs on his floor, which were definitely too small and bright to belong to him. Fuck, Peter had left them on purpose. He knew it; there was no way the little brat had gone home without his underwear ‘by accident’ and Tony hadn’t noticed them because he’d been in the lab all night.

 

Tony grabbed the underwear and laid on his stomach, bringing the underwear to his face. He knew it was gross, that he needed to calm down and just not- but he couldn't. He was going to have Peter if it fucking killed him, and he knew it probably would.

 

He'd started Peter's birthday with jerking off with the kid's underwear surrounding his face, and then finished into the undergarments, wrapping them around his cock and using the soft material to rub his dick until he covered the crotch of it with his come. And, for a moment, he thought it looked like a spiderweb when he unwrapped the material and saw the hot, white fluid stretched across it.

 

That night, when Peter snuck out to see him, Tony let the boy find the used underwear laid out in the middle of the bed. He came out of the bathroom, watching Peter gasp, eyes wide as he looked over the underwear slowly. He'd left them for Tony to find, sure, but he'd never expected this.

 

The wide-eyed look he'd given Tony was met with a dark smirk, and Tony only instructed him to strip down and sit on the edge of the bed, facing Tony. Peter did as he was told, not protesting when Tony asked him to start jerking his own cock. He'd hesitated, and blushed from his cheeks to his chest, but Peter was a good boy; he was obedient.

 

A question of "Is this okay, baby?" earned a few quick nods, Peter's eyes on the floor. "Look at me." He did. "Tell me if you want to stop."

 

Peter nodded once, croaking out a gentle, "Okay." And Tony felt less guilty.

 

Peter kept his eyes on Tony as he jerked his cock, and then Tony began in his deep, sultry voice, watching Peter shiver. "When's the last time you touched yourself?"    
  
"Last night."   
  
Tony clenched his jaw, straightening his back, shifting in his position. He was growing semi-hard in his expensive, dark blue boxer briefs, his hair still wet from his shower. He wasn't wearing a shirt, which he was beginning to regret; little did he know that Peter was silently  _ so thankful _ for Tony's decision to go topless. "Did you watch porn while you did it?" Tony asked in a gruff voice, and Peter shook his head. "What did you think about?"    
  
Somehow, even though Tony didn't think it was possible, Peter went  _ even more _ pink. Tony could tell that he probably didn't want to share whatever it was, but Tony needed some guidance; he had  _ no idea _ what Peter liked - other than Tony himself, of course.

 

"You." Peter admitted, and Tony smirked again. Okay, so he was the only thing that Peter liked. That was a good start.

 

"Yeah? And what was I doing to you?" Tony leaned back against the wall, reaching down to squeeze his own dick. He couldn't believe he was getting hard  _ twice _ in the span of a few hours as if he was a kid again; as if he was  _ Peter's _ age again.

 

Peter whined quietly, his dry hand tugging roughly against his cock. Tony offered him the lube in the nightstand, and once Peter had drenched himself in it, he twisted his fist around his dick, pinching and rubbing at his head, eyes finally flicking back up to Tony's. Peter looked wrecked already. "You... fucked me with your fingers, then - then your tongue." He began nervously, slipping his other hand down to pull on his balls gently, massaging them in his palm. "And then you, um, you fucked me. Finally." Peter whined, rubbing his slicked fingers on his hole. He kept trying to look away from Tony, then look back, seemingly scared of the older man's gaze. Tony  _ loved _ how jumpy and nervous Peter was, it made him want to hold down the boy and fuck the life out of him.    
  
  


"Did I let you come?"

 

"Not until you did." Peter mumbled, biting his lower lip. He pressed onto his perineum, gasping at the sensation, then going back to focusing on his dick. 

 

"Where did I finish?"

 

Peter paused, and then reminded himself that if Tony didn't want to hear it, he  _ wouldn't have asked.  _ "Inside of me." He gasped, moving his palm quickly over his dick, jerking it faster than before. "And then you watched it leak out of me." He chewed his lip, watching as Tony's hand slipped into his own briefs  _ finally _ , touching the cock that Peter still hadn't ever seen.    
  
"Is that how you want me, baby boy? Using you like a slut and then pulling your ass apart when I'm done, just to see all the come I gave you?" Peter nodded frantically at Tony's words, mouth dropping open. He squeezed the base of his dick, trying to hold off this for a little longer. All he wanted was Tony, and he didn't know if this was going to be a one-time-thing or not.

 

"Mr. Stark?" He asked, continuing once he knew he had Tony's attention. "Can - I'm - I really need you." He said nervously, tilting his head back. "Can you come here, please?"    
  
Peter's politeness was driving Tony crazy - he didn't know how the kid could be so sexy and sweet all at once. "Do you, baby?" He asked, raising his brows. Peter didn't seem happy about the teasing; he met Tony's gaze again and furrowed his brow. Tony abruptly pulled his cock out of his underwear, finally jerking himself to full hardness. "Want me inside of you?" Peter's nods weren't enough, so Tony let out a gruff, "Say it."

 

"I want you!" Peter yelped, and then came suddenly, much to his own dismay.

 

Tony was pleased. He knew Peter wouldn't last long, and practically ended it just as he was getting impatient. Tony had no intentions of fucking him - no intentions of touching him at all, really. Instead, he watched the boy writhe on the bed, arching his back and shouting Tony's name. "Good boy," Tony mumbled, jerking his dick faster, trying to finish before-

 

"Mr. Stark?" Peter whispered, somehow looking so innocent with his own come decorating his chest. Slowly, he shifted back and lifted his legs, planting his feet on the edge of the bed. He leaned back just a bit, showing off his bare hole, still keeping eye contact with Tony. "Can I have you as my reward?" He smiled, a shit-eating grin Tony had only seen a handful of times, "Since I was so good."

 

Tony groaned in response, tearing his eyes away from Peter's, focusing on the space under his balls, where Peter was idly rubbing. A few moments later, Tony took a couple steps forward, painting Peter's thighs (and everything between) with his come.

 

Peter was disappointed, to say the least.

 

Afterwards, Tony took him home, riding in the back with Peter as Happy drove. (Tony had tried to come up with an excuse about Peter web-slinging his way there without Tony's knowledge, but Happy threw his hands up and shook his head, declaring, 'Not my business, I don't wanna know, I don't gotta know.')

 

Tony watched with mild amusement as Peter stared at out the window, then towards the divider between them and Happy, then at Tony, all while shifting around every few seconds. He kept opening and closing his mouth, continuously trying to muster up the courage to speak.

 

Finally, as they pulled into his neighbourhood, he did. "Okay, like, I don't know what happened or if it's gonna happen again - I mean, not like you had to, if you don't wanna - 'cause I can keep my mouth shut. I promise I wont say anything about this. To anybody. Not even Ned, and I tell Ned everything. Other than the Spider-Man thing."

 

"Peter, please." Tony looked sideways at him, giving Peter a tight (but hopefully reassuring) smile. "Go home, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow after school." Peter deflated, and Tony did, too - somewhat. He was still jolted by what he'd done.

 

"Okay." Peter sighed, still staring at Tony, giving him a gentle smile. He continued to stare until they pulled up outside of Peter's house, and then he started leaning closer, eyes closing, lips puckering -  _ oh shit, oh shit _ .

 

Tony clapped a hand down on Peter's shoulder, his words a bit too loud for the small space. "See you tomorrow, kid."

 

And, with a defeated expression, Peter ran inside, and Tony was left to wonder what the actual fuck he'd done. Seriously, huge fuck-up.

 

But somewhere in his mind was the crazy idea that if he didn't actually touch Peter, they weren't doing anything wrong.

 

So this continued. Peter came over to work on projects with Tony, learning with him and upgrading their tech. Peter was surprisingly calm about the entire situation. They got each other off almost every time Peter came over - not always, especially not at the beginning. But after a few visits where Tony had initiated it, Peter gained some sort of confidence, and began finding breaks in their work to sit himself down on Tony's lap, or using excuses to move to Tony's side and brush up against him. It was cute, and Tony appreciated it. But Peter was a horny teenager, so while Tony wasn't always thinking about sex, his protege couldn't stop finding ways to get them going.

 

Still, Tony never touched Peter once they got their clothes off. He'd let Peter grind against his thigh, and would occasionally grab Peter's hair or throat, but that was about it. It was a wordless agreement, one where they were both comfortable - maybe not completely happy or satisfied, but they could do it.

 

Tony started investing in toys that always made their encounters fun, only furthering the depths of his recently-discovered voyeurism kink. He'd stick dildos to the floor, or the wall, and watch Peter fuck himself on them, his words a never ending string of begging. It was difficult, but Tony stayed strong. Sometimes he'd jerk off with Peter, and other times he'd just sit in the armchair in his bedroom and watch Peter explore every new gift he got.

 

They tried collars, gags, ropes, vibrators, cock rings and cages, and plugs. Tony went so far as to purchase his own "fucking machine", surprising Peter with it on a long weekend. Whenever they used it, he always tied Peter up. The first time, Peter had been on his knees on the bed, face down with his arms tied to his legs so that his ass was sticking up. Tony had let him come three times before he turned off the machine, and took care of Peter afterwards, rubbing aloe cream where he'd been tied up, cleaning Peter with a wet cloth, and getting him into soft, warm pyjamas.

 

Sometimes, his no-touching rule slipped.

 

But only when he had no other choice. Like the time when Peter's hands were tied behind his back, cock ring on, bouncing on a vibrating dildo that had been suction-cupped to the floor. There was one point where he'd clenched around the fake dick and shifted his hips sideways, effectively ripping the dildo off the floor with a loud pop. Peter had whimpered and glanced down, eyeing the silicone as it lay useless on it's side between his knees. He looked at Tony with a pleading expression, and Tony was only human, okay? He couldn't help it.

 

He had stood up and knelt behind Peter, grabbing the dildo and slamming it down onto the floor so it would stick. He held it steady while his free hand grabbed one of Peter's ass cheeks, spreading it from the other. When they touched, both Peter and Tony gasped in a breath, and Tony felt the boy tremble under his touch. His pretty, pink hole was so close, so easily accessible. All Tony had to do was shift underneath Peter and the boy could just slide right onto him.

 

But he couldn't. He knew that.

 

And so Tony guided Peter back onto the dildo, watching him sink down from up close, getting the most beautiful view of Peter stretching around it. He gave Peter's ass a hard spank while he was there, deciding that if he'd just had to break the rule once, he was going to get the most out of the situation.

 

After that, he had returned to his chair to watch, and figured that would be the end of it.

 

But Peter wasn't stupid.

 

The next time it happened, Peter just couldn't get his plug in properly. Tony had come all over it, and Peter was supposed to wear it all day at school, but he was wasting it all. At each of his failed attempts, more come was spread over Peter's skin and left behind, and even though Tony just  _ knew _ he couldn't be that stupid, it was irritating. So he'd marched over and swatted Peter's hand away, putting one of his own on Peter's thigh to keep his legs spread, his other pressing the plug in slowly. He had caught Peter's face as he did, watching the boy's eyes roll back, and a low moan escape him. Tony paused there for a moment, but once he pulled away, there was that shit-eating grin again. A look that told Tony he'd  _ lost _ .

 

During the year, though, his time wasn't only spent with Peter. Tony had things to do, a team to reassemble. By June, he'd come to an agreement with Steve, though he never quite forgave him. They decided to put their differences aside for the team, for the better of the world. It needed the Avengers, and they couldn't keep fighting with each other.

 

They'd all moved back into the compound, and Tony assured Peter that they'd still see each other - which resulted in many trips back and forth between Midtown and Upstate. Despite Peter's pleading, Tony wouldn't let Spider-Man become an official Avenger just yet. Peter had to finish school - if Tony was going to do anything right with this kid, he'd make damn sure Peter got his high school diploma.

 

Still, Peter weaseled his way into missions, and even had his own room in the compound. He'd met the rest of the Avengers, and often got Dr. Banner's help with homework. Bucky was practically a ghost, but he'd at least met the man one time. It was awkward and strange, and he and Tony kept staring at each other until Bucky had practically run away.

 

Peter spent most weeks in the summer at the compound, training and working in the lab, preparing for his last year of high school and his inauguration into the Avengers. He also spent a lot of time getting off for Tony's viewing pleasure, but that was just the cherry on top.

 

Finally, August rolled around again. Peter couldn't stop talking about how he was turning seventeen,  _ "Seventeen, Tony, the legal age of consent in New York" _ , a fact which Tony double-checked half a dozen times. He kept saying it, as if Tony would ever forget the day he'd become so intensely excited about.

 

During the year, Peter's love for Tony had only grown, and it was obvious for everybody. Rhodey gave Tony lectures on how it wasn't good for Tony to keep him in the lab until late hours of the night, and how he shouldn’t be so  _ charming  _ with Peter, ( _ “I can’t help being the ultimate wet dream, Rhodey.”) _

 

Steve also noticed when Tony was too touchy with Peter, or gave him too much attention. Tony knew he'd gone too far whenever he was getting a look of disapproval from Steve. He wasn't a saint - and he wasn't Captain fucking America, either, who could do no wrong. Except defend the man that had murdered Tony's parents.

 

But they kept it as secret as they could, and Tony began to rack his brain for what he was going to do once Peter turned seventeen.

 

On Peter's birthday, he woke up alone in Tony's bed with two texts.

 

_ Text Happy as soon as you wake up. _ _   
_ _ And also, happy birthday, baby. _

 

He smiled, sending back a quick,  _ "thank u daddy!!" _ , then doing as he was told. Happy picked him up outside of the compound, wished him a happy birthday, then put the divider up and refused to tell Peter where they were going. He assumed it would be a breakfast date, but instead, he was brought to a spa. 

 

Tony had arranged a waxing appointment for Peter, and while Peter’s first thought was to decline and rush out of there, he went through with it anyways. If Tony wanted him completely bare, he’d do it. He knew it’d probably (definitely) hurt, and boy was he right. 

 

No words were exchanged between Peter and Happy when they were back in the car, which Peter was grateful for. Once they were back at the compound, he immediately shuffled to Tony’s room and stripped off everything on his lower half. 

 

Once Tony got back, Peter got everything he’d ever wanted. 

 

Tony wanted to be slow, to make Peter’s first time everything that Tony’s wasn’t. Meaningful, romantic… and sober. 

 

When Tony had come through the door, he was met with the sight of Peter on his -  _ their _ \- bed, laying on his back with his collar already on. He was gently dragging his fingers up his side, circling his nipple and then absently tracing it back down. Peter had jumped up onto his knees once he saw Tony, beaming wide at him. “Thanks for my present, Daddy! I’m all smooth down there, look!” 

 

But as soon as Tony saw him, all intentions of being slow and gentle went out the window, and both men got everything they’d been waiting so long for. 


End file.
